APPENDIX C: SUMMARY

(FOR FLOYD GIBBONS)

In the Public Record Office, the following document which is transcribed verbatim, is to be found under AIR 2397/262/2:

MATERIAL ON BROWN FOR
GIBBONS’ RICHTHOFEN STORY

Captain Baron von Richthofen’s career was ended by a British pilot who was unaware of the identity of his victim until after the fight which wrote a large page in the history of the World War.

Captain A. Roy Brown of the Royal Air Force had been engaged in active service along the British front for fifteen months prior to the engagement on April 21, 1918. This had been punctuated only by a month’s leave to visit Canada and his nervous system had become so disorganised that it affected his stomach and for the last month of that time his diet consisted of brandy and milk.

Confined to his bed, he nevertheless arose and led his two patrols daily into the enemy’s territory. The British held a momentary supremacy in the air and this sen,- favourable condition added the greatest hazard to flying – the necessity of making all engagements over foreign territory. A new and more serious factor likewise had appeared – the Richthofen Circus.

This aggregation of gaily decorated Fokker triplanes, superior to anything the Allies possessed, had appeared in this sector three weeks previously. With them they had brought new tactics consisting principally of flying in Squadron formation. Whereas contact with the enemy previously had been in flights of five planes each, the British now worked in squadrons of various numbers, dependent upon last minute developments.

Captain Brown commanded a flight of Sopwith Camels in Squadron 209, stationed at Bertangles, four miles from Amiens. The squadron was commanded by Major Butler, holder of the Distinguished Service Order.

Captain Brown had been awarded the Distinguished Service Cross in a career which had included the dropping of about 15 enemy planes, although he is not certain of the official total.

During the time that Richthofen’s Circus had opposed Squadron 209, the latter had come in daily contact with it. without marked results. Without realising which plane belonged to the German flier who had nearly eighty Allied planes to his credit, the British aviators each day had their skirmishes with the aggregation, and Captain Brown formed an unusual attachment with one which remained as a vivid memory after the war.

He had singled out a Fokker triplane with a pale green fuselage and lavender wings and each day had his private duel without either himself or his German opponent ever gaining the advantage. For all he knew at the time, this might have been Richthofen, but this belief also was shared by each of his compatriots who were conducting their own private affairs.

On April 21. with the memory of these occurrences of the past few days in mind. Squadron 209 (sic) set out for the regular morning patrol at 10.30 a. m. The Squadron consisted of three flights of five planes each. The first flight flew in a V-shaped formation, close together, with Major Butler leading, two planes slightly behind him and at each side and two others still farther apart and above behind them.

Flanking the leading flight on the right, in the same formation, was Captain Brown’s flight, he being second in command. A similar flight was to the left of the Major’s detail.

The patrol first took a methodical path up and down the lines where (sic) here ran north and south and where, below, the Australian Colonials were facing the Germans. Back and forth they flew, gradually gaining altitude as they flew in wide arcs until the squadron was at 15,000 feet. The visibility was fair with a few clouds but when the squadron reached this altitude, flying over the lines. Captain Brown noticed the Squadron Commander Butler and his flight were not in evidence. Thereupon, Captain Brown assumed command of the two remaining squadrons [sic), signalling for the other to take position behind and above his own. With this formation made, he headed east in search of enemy planes and to do whatever reconnaissance was possible. This latter was secondary, however, to the main purpose of the Camel pilots to find and destroy whatever enemy – planes might be sighted.

The captain, his attention attracted by a burst of fire from his own anti-aircraft guns, looked over the side of his plane and far below sighted three Fokker triplanes attacking two R. E.8 type British planes over the German lines. The R. E.Ss were slow, cumbersome planes sent up only for the purpose of spotting Allied artillery – fire and quite unable to cope with the expert German pilots in their new equipment.

A kick on the rudder turned Captain Browns Camel on its side and the sight that met his eyes sent a tremor down his spine. A whole swarm of German aircraft had appeared, as if from nowhere, and. while neither of the observation planes had gone down, he realised it to be but a matter of seconds until they were both over-powered by virtue of numbers alone.

But while he watched the fight more than two miles below – he estimated the engagement to be at 3,000 feet altitude – his mind, trained to the mathematical formula of flying formations, reviewed the situation.

His first responsibility was to get enemy planes, but equally important was the requirement that he exercise every precaution to get his men back safely. Up to this time both records were clear for he had got more than his share of planes and he had never lost a man in the enemy’s territory.

The question was whether he should exercise prudence and permit the sacrifice of the two planes already involved below or whether he should make the heroic effect of endeavouring to save them. And then a third element entered into his reasoning – plain, cold fear.

His own craft were outnumbered two to one, he knew, and by the bright colourings he knew the German planes to be members of the Circus which had made its reputation even before he had set foot on French soil. As a matter of fact, he later found his machines out­numbered three to one.

Never before had he encountered so many of the Circus members at once and. as patrol leader, he would be the first on into the melee, probably arriving thousands of feet ahead of his support. He also knew with certainty that among the nine other planes there might be at least one who would falter.

Possibly the fear of fear itself was what prompted his decision. In any case, he knew it was not reason.

He waggled the wings of his plane, the signal for the others to follow him, and within a fraction of [a] second after the stream of thought had begun to pour through his mind, he pushed forward on the stick, stood the plane on its nose, and dived straight for the combat with ‘the gun wide open’, his plane going with the combined speed of the motor and the acceleration of gravity.

Seven of his planes followed. Two faltered. They returned home safely but their pilots’ stories were not those of the eight heroes of 209.

There is no opportunity to give many orders to a fleet of roaring airplanes but every man with one hand on the control stick and another on his machine gun trigger knew what he was supposed to do.

Each was to distract as many of the enemy as possible and permit the escape of the R. E.8s who still feebly held their own by the grace of their skill and luck. That duty finished, each British plane was to get home as best it could – but get home! Pilots had been lost in wholesale lots and each was considered an individual asset and necessity of the army.

Among those seven pilots following Brown toward the ground with every strut and spar of their Camels straining at the excessive speed was one boy who that morning had gone out for his baptism of fire. He was Lieutenant May, R. A.F. who survived the war and returned to his home in Melbourne. Australia.

He was operating under special orders. These were that in case of an engagement he should not try to join the general fighting but pick out a single plane, put it down if he could – if not. play with it until he could break away – and then head for home. Pilots on their maiden flights had the habit of trying to do too much and too many had been lost.

A few thousand feet above the Germans the falling phalanx pulled into a circling glide to size up their opponents. Still the lone ICE.8s held their own. But more of the Circus had appeared and now there were 22 planes bearing the black cross.

Into the melee plunged the eight Camels with motors wide open, guns roaring and every man for himself.

There was no regular order of battle – only more than thirty planes rolling, diving, turning, circling, banking, and firing bursts of machine gun bullets each time an opponent passed before the sights of their guns. Plainly perceptible from the ground, the Australians and the Germans who looked aloft could hardly distinguish their own planes in the dog fight but they looked on a battle royal such as had seldom occurred over the lines prior to that time.

Three times two planes got on Brown’s tail, the one direction which renders a single pilot helpless. Most of the German planes were of the Fokker triplane type, but here and there zoomed an Albatross (sic).

Brown estimated that the fight must have lasted ten minutes, an unholy eternity to a fighter in the air, flying automatically and concentrating on the double problem of putting his own bullets where they will count and at the same time protecting himself and his plane from two or three opponents equally intent upon doing the same thing.

Brown’s men were fighting the same odds, aided occasionally by him when he was not in momentary danger.

Somewhere in the ‘dog-fight’ was Richthofen – fighting with the cunning and skill and disregard of danger which had caused the German high command to print his exploits in a book and circulate them in the army as a shining example of the spirit of His Majesty’s Army.

His plane was one of those gaily decorated craft which made the fight a rainbow, streaked here and there with the cerise of the Red Nosed Camels, the distinctive mark of Brown’s squadron.

The R. E.8s both had retreated to safety and the Camels now were trying to extricate themselves. A hurried count assured Brown that all still were in action when Lieutenant May broke from the engagement.

Acting under his orders, he had sent a plane hurtling down in flames and then he followed his other orders to return home. Bertangles was to the north-west of the fight and the planes had dropped to about 1,000 feet during the action. Brown saw May leave while he was engaging two ot’ the Fokkers and then turned his attention to his other planes, planning to stay with them unless May got into trouble. May did.

When perhaps a quarter of a mile away a bright red plane swooped down upon him and May, without ammunition, was helpless.

He did every stunt he had been taught on the training field to distract his pursuer. Bulling up sharply he would go into an Immelmann turn, looping until flat on his back, then side-slipping over into normal position headed in the opposite direction, flying a zig-zag course, making short bursts of speed – always followed by the starlet plane which spat fire at him that he was helpless to return.

Brown decided that May needed aide worse than the seasoned pilots and darted out and down upon the red plane.

When he overtook the craft manoeuvring after May the three combatants were not more than 2<>o feet above the ground, directly over the Australian first line trenches. Brown could see the infantrymen looking up at him and the machine gunners spraying lead in the vicinity of the red plane.

His dive took him directly above and to the rear of the German plane and he opened fire with his last drum of ammunition.

Interspersed with the bullets were tracers, small shells which left a trail of smoke at every tenth shot. The first tracers went through the red planes tail.

A slight pull on the stick, a fractional elevation of the Camel’s nose, and Browns tracer showed a line of fire approaching the cockpit. The pilot had not noticed him.

As the gun stopped, empty, the German plane wavered and fell to the ground between the first line support trenches of the Australian infantry.

Richthofen was down! But Brown was unaware of the magnitude of his victory.

Brown managed to get back with only two cylinders of his machine working. The Camel otherwise was a sorry sight with twisted wires and punctured wings and fuselage where many German bullets had come dangerously near to him. Every one of his men came in – one by one – each in as bad a condition. One had suffered a slight wound. But the day had been fruitful.

When the reports had been read they read:

Lieutenant Mackenzie – Fokker triplane out

of control.

Lieutenant May – Fokker triplane destroyed

and himself wounded in arm.

Lieutenant Taylor – Albatross shot down

in flames.

There was no unit added to Captain Browns score. The infantry claimed the prize for their machine gunners and he had hardly landed before word was spread that Richthofen was dead.

Brown was in a state of intense nervous excitement, his mental powers and physical condition almost overcome by the strain of the engagement in a weakened condition. But he asked Lieutenant Colonel Cairnes, Wing Commander of the sector, to aid him in making an investigation.

With Cairnes he went to the support trenches where he saw the plane, lying as it had crashed, under fire from the German trenches.

With the aid of infantrymen. Brown brought in Richthofen’s body.

A post-mortem confirmed the fact that Brown had ‘got’ Richthofen. One bullet hole only was found in the body – the missile had entered the left shoulder, gone through the heart and emerged from the right side; making it apparent that the fatal shot had been fired from above and not from beneath.

Immediately after the post-mortem the day following the fight. Richthofen was laid in state – and Brown went on another patrol.

He does not remember returning – or anything, for that matter, for the next few weeks.

He landed his Camel safely, collapsed and was carried to the hospital near Amiens, listed as a critical case suffering from stomach trouble, accentuated by nervous strain. For three weeks he was delirious.

While Richthofen was buried by the Allies with full military honours, plans were being made to transport Brown to England.

After six weeks he was pronounced sufficiently recovered to assume duty as a combat instructor in England and a bar was added to his Distinguished Service Cross by the Prince ofWales. But fate had ruled that for Captain Brown the war was ended.

In spite of a slight attack of influenza, he took up a plane for practice and when at about 300 feet his comrades saw the machine plunge nose downward to the ground with the engine going full speed. Brown had fainted in the air.

They actually lifted the engine off his neck and he first was pronounced dead. Then a trace of life was found and the physicians set about mending twenty-two fractures in his skull.

Today, at 33 years of age. Captain Brown is actively engaged in business, has a wife and three children and is contemplating the not-far-distant date when his nervousness resulting from his experiences will have abated sufficiently for him to trust himself to drive a motor car.

Authors’ Comments on a Selection of Major Points

Once having read the above account, one is immediately amazed at how such a dramatized document came to be written in the first place by a staff’ member of the Air Ministry Historical Section. It is certainly not a product of someone in the 1^20s working in a government department, and it certainly would not have passed inspection by the senior ‘winged-collared’ clerk. For one thing it is not a historical document. The style closely resembles the work of a pulp-fiction writer. While it obviously has some accurate facts, the writer is clearly not really au fait with the subject matter and seems to make a number of assumptions. In fact, it almost seems as if Gibbons himself wrote it from a number of notes that may have been merely given to him by Air Ministry, as there are too many ‘Americanisms’ in the phraseology although except ‘airplane’ the spelling is English, not American. It was then typed by an English person.

Richthofens aeroplanes were not the only ones which were highly decorated so one cannot assume they were up against JG1 as opposed to any other German flying unit. Also, saying that the Circus was operating before Brown himself landed on French soil is wrong. Brown was in France in April 1917 and JGI – the Circus – was not formed until June.

In the opening stage of the air fight, the writer initially makes the point that Brown had only seven other Camels with him in the attack, then goes on to say there was ‘a fleet of roaring aeroplanes’ then a ‘falling phalanx’ of aircraft. Why he imagines Brown to have been ‘arriving several thousands of feet ahead of his support’ ie: the other Camels, is not known, but it makes Brown look an idiot – or the others reluctant participants. Furthermore, the phrase: ‘every man with one hand on the control stick and another on his machine-gun trigger’ (twice he assumes the Camel to have only one gun) indicates that the writer had no idea whatsoever how a fighter pilot controls his aeroplane, British, French or German, ancient or modern.

The mystery is how such a document came to be in an Air Ministry file, but it did. and over the years has assumed the mantle of an ‘official’ document. A simple explanation is that Gibbons sent the Air Ministry a copy of his typed-up notes, which were duly filed and later became a FRO document when records were transferred into the public domain.

Carrying on from this to specifics. On page 2 paragraph four of the document, it is stated:

‘The first flight flew in a V-shaped formation, close together, with Major Butler leading.’

‘Major Butler’ is not a slip of the pen. The error is continued on page 3 which begins as follows:

*___ but when the squadron reached this

altitude, flying over the lines. Captain Brown noticed that Squadron Commander Butler and his flight were not in evidence.

Thereupon Captain Brown assumed command of the remaining two squadrons, [sic]

Unfortunately for the writer, 209 Squadron’s Record Book shows that Major Butler did not fly on this day, in fact there is no record that he flew at any time that month. The RAF actively discouraged Squadron COs from flying combat; for trained and experienced administrators who could also command men were hard to find. The CO who flew when his work permitted tended to be so out of practice at the quick responses and distant vision required that he often became a liability. Von Richthofen’s 79th victim. Major R Raymond-Barker MC is a case in point. A senior flight commander was normally appointed and he led the squadron on patrol or into battle. In the case of 209 Squadron, this was Captain StearneT Edwards, who was on leave in England during April. The applicable pages of 209’s Record Book are to be found in FRO file AIR 1 -1 S5S/2< >4/214/H.

The final word ‘squadrons’ could be a slip of the pen for ‘flights’. It could also have been ‘inherited’ from the Anonymous Account. Either way it shows a lack of familiarity with aerial formations on the part of the person who prepared the Summary. Similarly his comment that May could, if engaged, try to put down (a strange phrase) an enemy plane if he could, if not. play with it until lie could break away. And this is the same author who is telling us about the deadly nature of the Richthofen Circus, but that May can ‘play’ with one of them until he finds himself in trouble. Good chance! On page 3, paragraph two. it is stated:

The Captain, his attention attracted by a burst of fire from his own anti-aircraft guns, looked over the side of his plane and far below sighted three Fokker triplanes attacking two R. E.8 type British planes over the German lines. The R. E.8s were slow cumbersome planes sent up only for the purpose of spotting allied artillery fire and quite unable to cope with the expert German pilots in their new equipment.

The following comments apply to the above excerpt which develops on pages 4 and 5 into how 209 Squadron Camels dived steeply and succeeded in rescuing the REHs.

1. On 21 April, the pilots of 209 and the crews of 3 AFC’s RESs, to a man, did not report any contact, indeed the latter vehemently denied it when the subject was broached after the war. 209 and 3 AFC documents show that the rescue of an RES by Captain Brown’s flight occurred the following day, the 22nd.

2. The task of the two RESs is again described as artillery spotting. This error may again have been ‘inherited’ from the Anonymous Account or from Cable’s Account. The writer is also over sensitive to the plight of the RES machines. While they were not on a par with German scouts, they could still handle themselves and often got out of trouble. As we know the two 3 AFC machines escaped Richthofen and Weiss shortly before the main air fight began, whereas the summary has the RESs surviving the onslaught of several Circus pilots for some minutes, while Brown manoeuvres and then attacks.

3. The reference to ‘German pilots in their new equipment’ is a dangling phrase. No equipment change is mentioned anywhere before or afterwards in the Summary. The ‘dangle’ suggests that the phrase was ‘lifted’ in its entirety from some other work where it fitted in properly. Fokker Dr. I triplanes were far from being ‘new equipment’; they had been in service on and off for six months and were now becoming obsolete. They had some advantages over Allied fighter types, not the least of which was their turning ability.

but experienced Camel and SE5 pilots could generally cope with the Triplane. The Fokker DV11 biplanes destined to replace most front-line German fighters. Triplanes and Albatros Scouts by the end of the war, were already being delivered to the aircraft parks for issue to Jagdstaffeln at the beginning of May. Richthofen himself was looking forward to flying one over the front.

On page 5 paragraph two, it is stated that after the war Lieutenant May returned to his home in Melbourne, Australia. He would have a long journey for nothing and a disappointing welcome upon arrival. He lived in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

On page 5 paragraph five it is stated:

Into the mel£e plunged the eight Camels with motors wide open, guns roaring and every man for himself.

The pilots of 209 Squadron were anything but a disorganised mob. Until 1 April it had been 9 Naval Squadron and in the RNAS discipline was spelt with a capital ‘D The tactics described above for attacking three enemy aeroplanes would be the perfect recipe for mid-air collision, that is given the remote chance that the wings of the Camels stayed attached to the fuselages and their rotary engines did not disintegrate in flames. With only 50 seconds worth of ammunition on board expert pilots only fired their guns after careful aiming; normally at close range. Any flight leader responsible for such a shambles would have had an unforgettable interview with his CO upon returning to base.

On page 7, paragraph five it is stated:

He (Brown) opened fire with his last drum of ammunition.

Brown’s machine gun was belt fed. And nowhere is there any mention of him being down to his last rounds in any event. Just as there is no report of his aircraft suffering the heavy damage supposedly found upon his return to Bertangles.

On page 8 paragraph two it is affirmed that Lieutenant May’s Combats in the Air report indicates the following:

Lieutenant May – Fokker destroyed and himself wounded in [the] arm.

1. May’s report claimed nothing of the sort, only that ‘he (the enemy aeroplane) went over and dived down.

1 was unable to observe the result.’ The report was annotated ‘Indecisive* by Major Butler.

2. Lieutenant Mackenzie was wounded, not May.

Conclusion

The person who provided the information for Floyd Gibbons had not read the sealed files and had little, if any, personal knowledge of the events which he described. His use of the words ‘drop’ and ‘dropped’ for shooting down hostile aircraft are curious and not normally used then or now. The information appears to have been derived from an anonymous fictitious account of the air battle published around 1925 together with garbled third or fourth-hand stories interspersed with guesses, not to mention a penchant for the dramatic.